


take the money and run, we'll never go home

by Lady_Iwaizumi



Series: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys [1]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Police, Alternate Universe - Yakuza, Anxiety, Awkward Conversations, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bank Robbery, Based on a My Chemical Romance Song, Bathing/Washing, Betrayal, Blood and Injury, Crimes & Criminals, Crushes, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Eventual Happy Ending, Fights, Getaway Cars, Guns, Gunshot Wounds, Handcuffs, Hiding, Hostage Situations, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, KILLJOY UNIVERSE, Love Hotels, M/M, Major Character Injury, Making Out, My Chemical Romance References, On the Run, Radio, Running Away, Secret Identity, Sexual Humor, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Smoking, Sneaking Around, Song fic, Swearing, Switching, Violence, classic entertainment, seriously a lot, shima makes kuroo watch him shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-10
Updated: 2018-05-10
Packaged: 2019-05-04 11:43:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14592303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Iwaizumi/pseuds/Lady_Iwaizumi
Summary: Look alive, sunshine...this is a hold-up."You're too hot to be a civilian," The blonde smiled, gun held out in front of him. "You must be a cop, huh?""N-N-No." Kuroo forced out, voice shaking beyond his control."Ahh...well then--you'll make the perfect hostage."(Robbery AU based off the My Chemical Romance album "Danger Days" and the Killjoy universe!)





	take the money and run, we'll never go home

**Author's Note:**

> I know I say this every time I write a fic, but this might be the greatest storyline I have ever come up with. Probably because I ended-up using more than just song lyrics from MCR for the setting and feel of the fic...
> 
> YeET
> 
> Idk how to run tumblr but you can visit my page for possible spoilers for my original work...@ junipermermaid. If you wanna see pics of my adopted mutt, follow my insta page at the same address!!!

Kuroo _hated_ going to the bank.

 

Stuck-up pricks standing behind the counter handling what little money their blue-collar customers have—to Kuroo, that didn’t sound like a trustworthy situation. And that was what banks preached for, right? Trust? Bullshit. Emergency rooms didn’t have vacancies, and banks didn’t have trust. They prayed for days when someone missed a payment so they could get their grubby little hands all over those cars and crappy houses to be sold for a ridiculous price just because homes in the Tokyo area were in great demand. It sickened Kuroo, but what could he do? He didn’t want _his_ house to be up for sale; then again, he also didn’t trust the locks on his door anymore than he trusted the bank, which explained why he came straight from work to cash in his newest check of a mere $438. Part of him wanted to wait a day, as work had been physically exhausting, but the bank was too close; it wouldn’t have made any sense to not cash the check in today.

 _Pathetic_ , Tetsurou sighed, pushing open the door of the Scarecrow Unit, Bank BL/ind®. _I bet I could sell the doors of this place for more than that. Sell whatever they got. Maybe I should quit, start acting as a criminal. I’d probably make more than I did now…_

There were two other customers at the open tills, so Kuroo held his breath and waited for his turn; that seemed to be a reoccurring theme of his life, but he didn’t get into that subject now. His mood was low enough as it is. This particular bank wasn’t really helping, what with the weird, pinkish carpet, the grey walls and dark accents of everything else; weren’t banks supposed to be light and uplifting or some shit? Scarecrow at least had music playing, granted, it was American pop, although their unsatisfactory service and the disgusting new-car smell cancelled the music beats out completely. On the bright side, the people ahead of him were only getting some cash from their accounts, so he didn’t have to wait for very long; on the dark side of things, he happened to get the most irritating teller in the entire place, an asshole with the worst set of bangs Kuroo had ever seen (hadn’t the 90’s proved enough that bangs were like the plague? Unwanted and terrible but spreading like wildfire?) whose nametag read SHIRABU.

Kuroo hated his face. His expression was always arrogant and stand-offish, as if he was somehow better than the customer because he knew how to tuck in his dress shirt. In Kuroo’s defense, he looked pretty good today; his pale blue mechanic shirt only had one oil spot, no tears or rips, and his jeans were all but clean with the exception of dirt, the only unacceptable part being his boots, covered in various mechanic mixtures and mud.

“Hello,” Shirabu greeted dully. He wasn’t very interested in the conversation. “What can I do for you?”

“Hey,” Tetsurou nodded, stepping up to the counter. “Just a deposit today.”

Kuroo didn’t say please just to spite the bank teller. He had to do what the customer asked no matter how he asked it. Shirabu’s lips went straight, but he said nothing and took the paycheck curtly, typing a few numbers into his computer before running the check through as Kuroo waited, leaning over the granite tiredly. Annoying music was the background of their silent conversation as the other customer left, leaving only one.

 

But the Scarecrow Unit of Bank BL/inc® was about to get very loud.

 

“How would you like your cash?” Shirabu asked dryly.

“Doesn’t matter.”

The teller quickly collected Kuroo’s cash and counted it out, staring with a cold gaze and narrowed eyes as the black-haired young man mumbled a thank-you. He slipped the $52 into his right pocket along with the receipt. His mother always told him to keep the receipts, “just in case.” Tetsurou listened because he loved his mother’s worry about him. He really missed her. Maybe it was time for a visit. Nothing helped change the way Kuroo perceived the world like visiting his mom. They had both gotten screwed over in this life, and it was nice being near someone who knew how it felt to be stepped-on, unlike this dorky-haired bank teller.

“Have a good day.” Shirabu said out of curtesy.

“Yup. You too.”

Kuroo turned left and headed towards the sucker dispenser on the wall at the end of the counter, dishing out fifty-cents despite Shirabu’s disapproving glare. He once told Tetsurou that the suckers were for children who came to the bank with their mothers, only for Kuroo to retaliate by saying he was only twenty, and by some laws, you weren’t an adult until you turned twenty-one. Until that day came, he was going to take a sucker every time he came to the bank, because he was a sucker himself, and eating one made him feel a little better about being a nice person who always got stabbed in the back.

 _What would it be like to go against authority?_ Kuroo wondered as he turned the lever to kick a sucker into the dispenser. _What would life be like if I didn’t follow the rules all the time? To be a mild criminal, cool and collected, fair and unfair at the same time, getting what I deserve from this cruel world. Just thinking about it gives me the chills. Sometimes I have to wonder…_

Tetsurou pulled out a red sucker and smirked to himself. Red was his favorite. Anything red was like a drug to him. As he stuffed the outside wrapper into his pocket, Kuroo popped the red sucker into his mouth, turning so he could wink at Shirabu, who was probably glaring at him from behind the cou—

 

_CRASH!_

 

The front doors of Scarecrow were thrown open violently, smashing into the walls as a group of people burst inside.

 

“LOOK ALIVE, SUNSHINE!” A happy voice called. “THIS IS A HOLD-UP!”

 

The sucker dropped from Kuroo’s mouth as several people wearing creepy animal heads came rushing in, holding colorful _guns_ and heading to surround the entire front counter.

“Whoohoooo!!!” One of the robbers cried. Two others jumped up on the counter, right where Shirabu was currently peeing his pants. Literally. The stain was just getting bigger and bigger on his light-colored dress pants. Kuroo actually felt sorry for the bastard, but then he remembered that he could possibly end-up in the exact same situation. That idea was as horrifying as it was paralyzing.

“Mind if I stand here, sonny?”

_This is not happening. This can’t be happening, right?_

It was very much happening right before Tetsurou’s wide eyes.

The two now standing proudly on the counter were the obvious leaders of the group, always ahead of the other animals and wearing matching fox heads, right out of a Purge movie or something. They were similar in height and stature, one holding a gun right at Shirabu and the other teller named Reon, whose mouth was open so wide it was a wonder drool didn’t pour from his lips.

 

The fox’s guns were the biggest—that was the last detail Kuroo took note of before ducking behind the end of the counter, hiding in the shadow of the exit door whose neon green light had never looked so dooming before.

 

Every heart inside Scarecrow was pounding a mile per second, desperation and horror taking over each individual’s mind as they stared wordlessly at the robbers currently standing over them like titans. The criminal nearest to Kuroo wearing the creepiest snake head mask Tetsurou had ever seen, maybe six-feet away was facing the front doors, gun up and ready to fire if someone were to interrupt their little get together; five others were spread around the bank, most of them backing-up the leaders and surrounding the front counter. The employees all had their hands in the air, with the exception of Shirabu and Reon, who were frozen in fear. Tetsurou had his back against the end of the counter, palms on the ground—the red sucker had thankfully fallen to his right, behind the wood where no one could see unless they were on the teller’s side. His mind was coming to terms with the situation, despite its unnerving horror; the next words spoken finally broke through the wall within his dazed attitude, and Kuroo listened with rapt attention. He witnessed the following scene from the reflection of a nature picture hung-up on the wall in front of him, beside the exit—if he could see them, it was only a matter of time before one of the thugs spotted him as well.

“Hello there—”

The fox head on the right cocked to the side, probably so the user could read the nametag.

“Shirabu. Would you be a doll and grab the key for safe number four?”

Shirabu’s mouth hovered open and closed, his brain trying to get him to speak, his chest so full of shock it outnumbered the will of his mind. The leader thought this hesitation was interesting. So interesting, in fact, that he needed to push his mask up to see things clearly.

A bit of blonde hair stuck out from the animal head as a scary looking guy with drugged eyes and a narrow jaw stared down at Shirabu carefully, inspecting his character as if he had all the time in the world. Kuroo held his breath and listened as the poisonous words spewed from the fox’s lips.

“You know, Shirabu…truth is now acceptable. You can tell me where the keys are instead, if you like, although I’d much rather not have to kill you to get to them. What do you think? Can you do a guy a favor?”

“Hurry it along, Atsumu.” The other fox said through the mask.

The one named Atsumu shot him a look, then smiled at Shirabu and slid the fox back over his head. The threat of death seemed to be enough for Shirabu to stop wetting his pants and jumble through papers on the desk to find the key that would lead to the safe keys in the bottom drawer of the till. All the while, he had a gun in his face, and Reon was still frozen beside him.

 _What do I do, what do I do?!_ Kuroo asked himself frantically, slumping down to prevent anyone from catching his reflection in the picture. His eyes kept returning to the exit door only a step away from his right side. That was the most natural option he had, but…they would see him. What if they had more men outside? What if they shot him? What if they shot the tellers because of him? Thousands of tragedies were at stake. Kuroo had never been a coward, but right now, he felt that the only option that would result in at least one less person getting shot were if he somehow made his way through that door.

He remained as still as possible (with the exception of his trembling hands) while listening to the fox speak.

“Very _good_ , Shirabu!” Atsumu encouraged when the teller with the wet pants came up with the safe keys. “Osamu, would you be so kind as to accompany Shirabu into the safe, please? Tsukishima will help you carry the baggage—Suguru, you stay behind until I say.”

The second fox jumped off the counter and onto the carpet beside Shirabu, who flinched in fear. Reon did nothing but watch them pass as another tall criminal with a yellow bunny head followed Osamu and Shirabu into the back room, where a safe full of cash from some billionaire was waiting for them. Tip-offs from station 109 were becoming increasingly useful.

 _Do something! Do anything!_ Kuroo screamed at himself. But his hands were shaking as his heart attempted to be brave, hoping his silent courage would wash over the other victims. The fifty-two dollars in his pocket somehow didn’t seem like a high amount, considering how much these freaks would be stealing within a manner of minutes. He just hoped no innocent civilian came through the front doors—surely they would be shot on sight…

Shirabu and the two others disappeared. The remaining workers and tellers shook as the leader glanced at them casually, as if he didn’t have a loaded weapon in his hands.

“Fame is injectable, my friends.” Atsumu said, walking across the counter like he owned the place. Kuroo guessed he kind of did, since he was pointing a gun at the tellers and forcing access into one of the safes that most likely didn’t contain any of his personal items or information inside. “We decided to rob you of your highest benefactor for simple reasons. Life must become incredible, you see, in order for everyone to survive.”

_Is he trying to inspire us?_

“Faith…is unavailable. Please understand that. Anyone attempting to escape will, unfortunately, be terminated.” The fox continued. “Don’t fuck around. This is your last chance to be civil…”

 _Sorry, Mom_ , Kuroo silently apologized. He gripped the carpet tightly, eyes locked on the bright exit sign that kept getting brighter and brighter. _I guess escaping the Route Guano means I’m uncivil._

“As long as everyone remains quiet and still…we _probably_ won’t hurt—”

 

Kuroo had his arms held out and ready as he launched towards the exit door, pushing the handle and flying through the doorway in just one motion.

 

There was a delayed noise from inside the bank, but the heavy door slammed shut behind him, effectively protecting his soul from bullets for at least a moment. Kuroo didn’t even have time to put his next plan into action or rejoice over escaping the Scarecrow Unit unharmed. He managed to glance around the alleyway briefly, almost running directly into a dirty white 1979 Pontiac Firebird Trans Am parked in the middle, but someone stopped him before his escape plan could fully move into motion.

 

“And just _where_ ,” An alluring voice asked, causing Tetsurou to stop dead in his tracks. “Do you think _you’re_ going?”

 

 _Shit_.

 

Kuroo swallowed in fear, staring wide-eyed at the car as to memorize the details in case he made it out of this alive. The Firebird wasn’t hard to miss; there was a huge spider painted on the hood, the body of the car having a yellowish tint and permanent dusty coats covering the paint. The back license plate was a jumble of confusing numbers and letters that didn’t make any geological sense to Tetsurou, 4XOX 575, and on the upper rim read the catchphrase the lead fox had cheered upon entering the Scarecrow bank: _LOOK ALIVE, SUNSHINE_. The unmistakable details of the (admittedly, _awesome_ ) ride was a tiny, tiny comfort to Kuroo as he dared to put his hands in the air and turn around to face the person who had prevented him from escaping the clutches of the bank robbers.

 _Shit_ …

First and foremost, this alley-bum was holding a bright yellow gun towards Tetsurou. Secondly, this thug was the getaway guy for the criminals inside Scarecrow currently stealing from a wealthy benefactor of the bank. Shockingly, Kuroo couldn’t help but notice how fucking _young_ the kid in front of him looked, smirking confidently and only holding the gun with one hand, as to impress the person he was currently holding at gun-point. His golden blonde hair was swept back coolly, a few bangs dangling here and there, the darker undertone giving-off an even slicker vibe than before. He wasn’t dressed like the others, not hiding his narrow face behind a disturbing animal mask, and as much as Kuroo tried to take advantage of that fact, his vision was only focused on the weapon ready to be unleashed on his innocent bystander body.

For a short moment, things were quiet, just like before the killjoys had arrived to cause mayhem and unleash the hell in Route Guano.

Kuroo’s heart pounded in his chest as his muscles began to shake uncontrollably, adding to the intensity of the situation. The punk in front of him was wearing a red leather jacket that had the name _Kobra Kid_ etched into the left chest panel, and his jeans were black and filthy with dust, accessorized with a gun holster that wrapped around his skinny right thigh. He only had one fingerless leather brown glove on, old boots shredded by over-use and black sunglasses hooked to the collar of his yellow zebra striped tank-top underneath the jacket. It was a level of grease Kuroo couldn’t even begin to admire. Despite the unpromising position the mechanic was in, Kuroo dared to take his eyes off the colorful gun and locked his fearful gaze onto the thug’s face—he hadn’t been mistaken in saying that this kid was in fact, a kid. Young and so indigestible. His youthful face was clear and smooth, free of facial hair or acne, and the shape of his face was attractive, handsome, even. With short, dark eyebrows that rose high on his forehead, a tiny nose and kick-ass smirk on his thin lips, it was a wonder Kuroo hadn’t seen this kid on a modeling billboard rather than a Most Wanted sign.

The bastard didn’t seem to notice Tetsurou’s nerves as they stood only two-feet apart, contact separated by a gun that matched the killjoy’s carefully planned outfit.

_These people must be REALLY desensitized…_

“You’re too hot to be a civilian,” The blonde smiled, gun held out in front of him. “You must be a cop, huh?”

 _Do I speak? Do I run? Do I piss my pants?!_ Tetsurou thought quickly, mouth hovering open _. Um…did…did he just say I was hot?_

“N-N- _No_.” Kuroo forced out, voice shaking beyond his control.

The hostage held his breath after the jumbled word connected their interaction. This response caused the criminal to cock his head to the side thoughtfully; the smile slowly faded from his lips as more commotion came from behind the exit door of the bank. Tetsurou didn’t give himself a moment to wonder what was going on. His mind remained blank, too paralyzed to even come up with an imaginative scenario of how he could escape this deadly murder scene. Maybe he could take advantage of his so called hotness and seduce the thug and run away to get help.

“Ahh…”

The Kobra Kid’s almond eyes shimmered, his widened eyes checking the bystander out up and down. It terrified Kuroo, because he knew the man who could easily take his life had just come up with an idea.

 

“Well then—” That smooth, playful voice teased. “You’ll make the perfect hostage.”

 

_I repeat: shit._

 

“Yo, Terushima!!! Catch!”

The exit door was thrown open, and the second fox head threw a bag stuffed full of money into the air. The Kobra Kid apparently named Terushima caught it with one hand, without his gun so much as moving an inch, much to Kuroo’s dismay. The fox finally noticed the escapee, but Tetsurou couldn’t tell if he was glaring or not, what with the giant fox head covering his face. He had a bad feeling Osamu would approve of the Kobra taking a hostage.

“We’re taking back control, now!!!”

The blonde smirked, but his fascination was still directed towards Kuroo as the second in command hurried back into the Scarecrow.

“Three more to go, Kobra Kid!!!”

Yellow was now the mechanic’s least favorite color as Terushima moved to walk past him, the gun now dangerously close to coming in contact with Kuroo’s face. Of course, if they were going to kill him, he would prefer if they shot his handsome face and didn’t spend days cutting it up with knives. His mother would probably lose her mind if she saw that…

“Run and I blow out your guts.”

_I believe you. Trust me, I do. But I’m not this much of a coward, am I?_

“D—Die with your mask on.” Kuroo breathed out. How he spoke was beyond his understanding.

Terushima’s lips quirked. He side-stepped the new hostage and threw the money bag into the back of his Firebird.

“Innocent civilian within my clutches,” The kid said to himself, giving Kuroo a heart-attack by pressing the gun to his back as he adjusted the money bag in the back seat. “This day couldn’t have turned out any better. The pigs are going back to get more money, we’ll be out of here within five minutes, and then—home free. It’s quite a perfect plan, don’t you think?”

Tetsurou couldn’t reply to that right away. He didn’t have a clever comeback because of the stress overtaking his emotions, what with a deadly weapon held up against his back and all…but as it turns out, he wouldn’t have to say anything.

 

The only response suitable to put the taste of life back into Kuroo’s mouth was the close sound of police sirens.

 

_It’s about damn time!_

 

Terushima froze behind his hostage, a new emotion stirring around within his chest as the sirens echoed, sounding closer and muffled as they zig-zagged between traffic and neighboring buildings. The noises added to the chaos inside and outside of Scarecrow, creating a panicked atmosphere that suddenly made Kuroo realize that he wasn’t even remotely close to escaping danger yet. He was thankful for however the cops discovered this dangerous situation, but knew he was too far inside the organization for any escape to be easy.

“Here’s two more!!!”

The killjoy with the yellow bunny head opened the side door and threw two more bags of cash out to Terushima, who could only catch one because of his shock upon hearing the police car sirens. The second landed at Tetsurou’s feet, and he desperately tried not to flinch, for fear that moving would cause the Kobra Kid to pull the trigger and blow his guts out as he threatened earlier. Kuroo watched silently as the blonde called out to the bunny head before he could turn to enter the bank for more prize money.

“The cops!” Kobra Kid cried in warning.

The bunny froze. His oversized head turned back to face the pair, large, freaky eyes staring with a lifeless gaze. Something told Kuroo the criminal’s actual expression looked incredibly similar.

“You’re kidding.”

“No, shithead, go tell Atsumu!!! We gotta go!!!” Terushima ordered aggressively.

Without another word, the bunny tore back into the Scarecrow, leaving Kuroo to ponder whether or not he should try escaping into the street to his right, where the cops would be parked within a manner of seconds. The killjoy holding him hostage kept the gun against his body as he tossed the other heavy bags into the backseat of the getaway car. _Okay, okay…the cops are coming. They’ll go into the bank immediately, so those freaks with the animal heads will run out here_ , Kuroo thought frantically, forgetting the entire held-at-gun-point incident for a moment. _They’ll either take me with or shoot me. I don’t like either of those options. What’s option C? Uhh…I could…I could…scream for help? Would the cops come to the alley if I screamed for help? I’m not a very good screamer, though. Maybe if I just yel—_

Suddenly, Tetsurou’s body was whipped around by a strong, slim hand on his shoulder, turning his body so that he was face to face with the only unmasked person of this operation. Those almond eyes were raged with fire and another emotion Kuroo couldn’t decode because of his own panic. The hand gun was pressed up against his chin, now, cutting his breath off by inflicting such a terrifying fear the mechanic didn’t understand what the Kobra Kid said right away.

 

“Get in.”

 

“…H-Huh?”

 

“If you don’t want to die today, get in the _fucking_ car, now!!!”

 

_Option C: follow this backstabber’s orders, get into the car and run away with the money. The money that Terushima didn’t even help steal and is now going to take with him…not to share with the others. Option C includes being hunted down by the leaders of these killjoys and probably ending up dead for going along with Kobra Kid’s evil plan, but this plan also includes getting to ride in an awesome Trans Am Firebird car from 1979._

Kuroo managed to nod; Terushima grabbed his collar and pushed him towards the passenger door.

_Seriously…is this really happening? Am I really getting into a car with a getaway driver?_

Tetsurou slid into the passenger seat, not bothering to buckle his seatbelt. It didn’t seem very relevant at the moment when there were fifty-other scenarios in which he could die right now. Terushima kept the gun pointed at him through the windshield as he sprinted to the other side of the Firebird, hurriedly jumping into the driver’s seat and roaring the engine to life. Kuroo wanted to admire the interior of the car, but wasn’t given time—the police sirens were dangerously loud, and the _second_ one screeching stop was heard on the street in front of Scarecrow, the Kobra Kid stepped on the gas.

The wheels spun for a wild moment, and then they were off, shooting down the alleyway towards the exit onto another street. Movement behind them caused the hostage to glance in the rearview mirror.

Part of him wished he hadn’t.

“ _HEY!!!!!!!!!_ ” Atsumu screamed behind the escapees, bursting into the alley without his fox head.

Kuroo saw the gun and ducked just as the leader began shooting, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as bullets hit the Trans Am, unable to cause any damage but creating a terrible plinking noise. _Don’t fuck up the paint job!_

“ _TERUSHIMAAAA!!!!!!!!_ ” He screamed in rage.

 

The Kobra Kid managed a sick smile and kept driving, just as the policemen team broke-up the party inside the Scarecrow bank. Little did they know that the money they were sent to recover was barreling through the Tokyo streets under the nose of a cruel, blonde killjoy named Terushima.

 

It was already gone.

 

Kuroo needed a moment to breathe. When he managed to open his eyes, he became dizzy from the swerving and ducking movement of the car, dodging traffic and running through several red lights without being hit by unsuspecting vehicles. His vision remained a bit hazy for a solid seven blocks, but once Terushima barely managed to dodge a semi-truck, Tetsurou came to his senses and glanced over crazily at the driver; Kobra Kid didn’t look over, choosing to frantically glance into his mirrors every few paces to ensure that the cops hadn’t found them yet. Kuroo didn’t know if there were security cameras in the alley of Scarecrow, and then again, that wasn’t his most primal concern right now.

The blonde whipped a right turn, cutting off several vehicles in the process, and if he didn’t get picked-up for burglary and taking a bystander hostage, he would certainly be stopped for major traffic violations. Despite breaking all these laws, Terushima snuck a glance at Kuroo and noticed a minor detail. Apparently to him, it was important.

“Put your damn seatbelt on. Do you wanna die or something?”

Tetsurou opened his mouth to reply, instead choosing to stay silent and slowly buckle himself into the Trans Am. After all…he could still see that the yellow gun strapped inside Terushima’s holster was locked and loaded.

Fear returning, Kuroo opted to remain silent and unassuming, looking straight ahead as his chauffer was, suffering through minor heart palpitations when the kid came close to smoking other cars head-on. He flinched when Terushima reached out to turn the radio on, flipping past channel 109 and finding the Tokyo police scanner instead.

“Come on, come on…”

The static radio suddenly came in, and Terushima finally decided to drive in a straight line in order to focus on what the police were saying. They could only catch a few words

“…Scarecrow Inc…---suspects in cus--……--ssibly a getaway---…no known casualties-- ----…all units responding…----…inves--n--of the---is beginning……”

“We’ve got time,” Terushima smirked, briefly glancing over at his hostage.

_How is he speaking so casually?!_

“We can’t slow down until we get pretty far out of the Route G, but if they’re not onto us yet—”

_Us?! Who’s US?!_

“We should be able to get pretty far without those bastards chasing after us.”

Kuroo shocked himself by breaking out of his terrified funk to give the blonde a questionable look; what world was he living in? Was he hallucinating? He had just betrayed his team in order to avoid arrest and happened to have in his backseat four bags of who knows how much cash…did this guy _honestly_ think he would be able to get off scotch free?

 

With how casually he was talking to Kuroo, the mechanic guessed he probably _did_ think so. Criminals were confident like that.

 

Tokyo traffic was starting to clear the further they drove away from the bank; they were headed West of Tokyo through a bustling neighborhood where a flashy car like theirs wouldn’t be that special, although it was much different from the convertibles and sports cars parked on the side of the road. Kuroo wanted to tell him to slow down, worrying about the engine, but it occurred to him that there were more pressing matters at hand. For instance, his own fear of being killed overshadowed the apprehensive glimmer of emotion he briefly caught in Terushima’s almond eyes. He looked away and wrung his hands together nervously, an action that brought the killjoy’s attention back to him.

They were still driving 87 miles per hour down the streets of Tokyo when he looked over at Kuroo instead of the road.

“Velocity making you sweat?” He joked with a smirk.

“U-Uh…n…no.” Kuroo answered anxiously. The gun was brighter than ever in his side-view.

“Don’t be nervous. They aren’t after us.”

“…Yet.” Tetsurou whispered.

“Well, yeah, they will be eventually!” Terushima laughed. He actually _laughed_! “We do have eight-million dollars sitting in the back seat.”

“Eight…eight _million_ … _dollars_?”

“Go big or go home, as I always say.”

Kuroo’s mouth was hung upon in utter shock. They were so screwed once the fox team ratted Terushima out…

 _Wait a minute—who’s they?_ The innocent mechanic thought, turning his gaping mouth into a frown. _I didn’t do anything!!! I’m not part of this organization!!! I’m one of the victims, here!!! There is no ‘we’!!!_

“There could be something right past the turnpike gates,” The kid in the red jacket commented as they came up to the exit of Tokyo. Kuroo didn’t know if he was talking to him or not. “…But you just never know. We’ll take that route, see how it goes. Are you in?”

When the black-haired prisoner didn’t reply, Terushima glanced over.

“Hey—are you in or not?” He repeated.

“…In with what?” Tetsurou dared to ask.

Kobra Kid rolled his eyes and took his glove off, throwing it in the backseat with the ominous bags of millions.

“You’re stuck here with me until I decide how to use you for good. You can either play nice or be a bastard who tries to escape all the time, in which case I’ll have to put that helmet over your face and blast you off into heaven. They don’t have vacancies, you know.”

“Well you’ve already got me at gun point, so I can’t really jump out of the car, can I?”

Terushima’s dark eyebrow raised, but he seemed more amused than irritated at Kuroo’s slightly sassy reply. His lips curved a bit as he looked back ahead, hitting 100 miles per hour once they illegally passed the last car in their way. They whipped past the exit of Tokyo, and Kuroo’s heart fell in his chest. Leaving the one place where everyone knew what had happened seemed awfully disenchanting…the small hope he had of being found alive died when Kobra Kid sped past the turnpike within a split second.

 

 _Deep breaths,_ Tetsurou ordered himself, gripping his knees so tightly his knuckles turned white _. You’ll never make it out of this alive if you can’t overlook your fear. He has a gun, yeah…but as long as you don’t give him a reason to—_

_Who am I kidding. He could kill me whenever he wanted to, no questions asked, no reason why._

_This world continues to fuck me over. What did I ever do to make karma hate me so much?_

 

“You should slow down,” Kuroo suggested, voice gaining a little more power upon realizing that he was a dead man. If the world was going to kill him in such a stupid way, he might as well try to make conversation, right?

“ _Pffff!!!_ ” Terushima cackled, releasing his loud, creepy laugh into the car. It ruined his cool image. “You really don’t understand the concept of a getaway car, do you?”

“No, but I do understand the concept of overheated engines.”

“The engine will be fine—I know my car better than you do. Trust me—”

The blonde glanced at the mechanic’s name tag etched into his work shirt.

“Kuroo. The last thing you’ll die from is a car accident.”

“Well, _Terushima_ , with how over the speed limit you are, I think you might be wrong about that.”

Kuroo kept his eyes ahead on the empty highway road when the criminal looked over at him thoughtfully, pressing the gas pedal down even further.

“Since you’ve become so talkative…which radio channel do you want on?” Terushima asked casually, messing with the dials. “You seem like a k-pop guy to me. No no…a punk rock kind of guy. Am I right?”

Tetsurou sighed through his nose and leaned back in the leather seat. This day was too tiring for him.

“Fine then…we’ll listen to my station.”

109 was turned on, but they gave no news or tip-offs about what had happened at Scarecrow bank; Terushima leaned one elbow on the console between them and finally went quiet for a minute, listening intently. There was nothing but a traffic report, and they didn’t even mention the Firebird’s corruption of Tokyo traffic from a few minutes before. The sound of car noises and horns honking created a tense atmosphere between the two young men, one silently worried that the police would be on them within the hour, the other worried that he would no longer be breathing by the time the police caught Terushima.

“…Alright children, the lights are out, and the party’s over.” Dr. Desert said through the speakers. “It’s time for me, Dr. D, to start running and say goodbye for a little while. And I know you’re gunna miss me, so I’ll leave you with this: you know that big ball of radiation we call the sun? Well it’ll burst you into flames if you stay in one place too long. That is if the static doesn’t get you first.”

The mechanic glanced over when he heard a quiet sigh huff through Terushima’s nose.

“So remember, even if you’re dusted, you may be gone, but out here in the desert, your shadow lives on without you. This is Dr. Desert, signing off.”

~~~-~~~

Kuroo didn’t know how long they had been driving. It was dark outside, the Trans Am didn’t have a clock, and Terushima hadn’t slowed down since leaving Tokyo.

 

He didn’t dare close his eyes, even though he couldn’t see shit outside except for what was right in front of them, thanks to the Firebird’s bluish headlights; the gas mileage on this thing was incredible and unbelievable at the same time. The wide-awake hostage tried to focus on the level of awesomeness the car was at instead of focusing on the fact that he was inside a car with a criminal who would soon be wanted by the entire country of Japan for robbing a bank. Kuroo never suspected he would _ever_ be involved with someone so dangerous. It was blowing his mind. He wondered if the rest of the team had ratted Kobra Kid out yet—according to the police scanner, Atsumu and his team were in custody, but Kuroo had to wonder whether or not they would cooperate and help the detectives locate Terushima and the eight-mill sitting in the backseat.

“I’m Terushima, by the way.” The blonde said, breaking a silent streak of four-hours. He didn’t even look tired after driving for who knows how long—Kuroo figured it was the adrenaline and paranoia keeping him alert. “But you can call me Kobra Kid if you want to.”

Tetsurou regretted looking over when he saw Terushima wink playfully at him.

“And what should I call you, Kuroo?”

“How ‘bout Kuroo?” The mechanic said dryly. _I must really be tired if I’m taunting my captor…_

“Kuroo’s so lame, though! You need a cool nickname like mine!” He replied much too cheerfully.

“My name is fine. Why would I need a nickname, anyway?”

“Because if you’re hanging with me, you need a much cooler name than Kuroo. I’ve got an image to maintain, you know?”

Kuroo didn’t know how a criminal could have a good image to maintain and chose not to comment. He glanced out the tinted window on his side, rubbing the cold skin of his forearms as a distraction from the deadly situation. To think, his day started out so ordinary, so routine and boring...one day of terrifying exhilaration versus years of nothing but struggle and miniscule triumphs. Now he was forcibly an accomplice to a robbing scheme—oh how the tables had turned.

“Here.”

Kuroo nearly jumped out of his seat when Terushima threw a blue and red leather jacket onto his lap.

“I took the heat and air conditioning out to make room for _special gadgets_ ,” The blonde smirked. “It’s not about to get any warmer in here.”

_Do I wanna know what ‘special gadgets’ are?_

“Is this yours?”

“Obviously I’m wearing my own, dipshit. You think I’d be caught dead in the color blue? I don’t think so.”

Tetsurou narrowed his eyes and investigated the jacket, daring to move more than an inch for only the second time since being captured. The jacket was, admittedly, slick as hell, with sleeves that reached the elbows, a metallic blue color and red accents; the nametag like Terushima’s read DEAD PEGASUS.

“Dead Pegasus,” Kuroo repeated to himself out-loud. It was a pretty savage name… “Um…can I unbuckle really quick?”

“Well, dearest Kuroo, I don’t see how you can put on the jacket with your seatbelt trapping you in the seat!”

_Great. I’m stuck with a punk who has an attitude as well as a criminal record._

“Tell you what—you can keep it.” The blonde generously offered. “The guy who used to wear it is dead, anyway, so he won’t be missing it. Man, I miss that red-headed son of a bitch! You would’ve liked him. Or maybe hated him, it could go either way. His name was Dead Pegasus, but we usually called him Tendou. Did you know he used to work at Scarecrow? That’s how we first got the information regarding the generous benefactor who kept his money stashed there. Tendou got ghosted a while back, though.”

_Well that answers a lot…_

The black-haired man listened with irritated interest as he unbuckled and slid the jacket on, immediately warming-up and settling back into his space while admiring how bad-ass he now looked. Terushima seemed to approve as well, smirking to himself before returning his gaze back to the road. Despite his casual, non-chalant demeanor, Kuroo now noticed how stiff his body posture was, hands gripping the wheel a tad too tightly for someone who was seemingly convinced they wouldn’t be caught. The gun still sent shivers down Tetsurou’s spine, however, so he didn’t look into the topic for long.

Something else was understandably bothering him the most.

They had been driving for many hours. Terushima hadn’t told him where they were going or what they were going to do when they got there. There was enough cash worth eight million dollars sitting in the backseat. Atsumu and the team had been caught red-handed. It was only a matter of time before they let everything spill and told the cops about Terushima’s influence; channel 109 had no reports to share, but Kuroo had a feeling their escape drive would come to a deadly end sooner or later. This solved the mystery of Kobra Kid, who would either be shot down or end-up in jail beside his buddies, who probably weren’t going to be his buddies after the alley incident…

So what about the hostage?

 

“Terushima.”

The blonde flickered his energetic eyes over. After a short pause, Kuroo spoke in a low voice.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

 

Terushima blinked once. The only response he gave was turning his lips into a small, unemotional smile.

 

Silence reigned for another tense hour before sounds of a city broke through their barrier. As if a sheet had been taken off the windshield, Kuroo could now see a busy town in front of them, lights shining on every street corner, clubs lit-up in neon…he recognized the city as being Kurashiki, _all_ the way across Japan to the Okayama Prefecture and was shocked at how far they had actually driven within a span of eight hours. Terushima sat straighter in his seat as they slowed down to the speed limit (a miracle, through Kuroo’s eyes), coasting alongside other fancy cars to blend in.

“Listen here,” Kobra Kid commanded in a low growl, deliberately grabbing onto the collar of Kuroo’s new jacket. His eyes were dark with dangerous energy, but there was no denying his youthful features. “You don’t speak unless I say. If you listen to me, I won’t hurt you.”

“That doesn’t sound promising.”

_Dude, do you want to get shot?! Shut the hell up!_

“We’re staying here for the night. I don’t want any trouble, so if you have any interest in not going to jail or being hacked to death, I suggest you obey me. We can even look at it from a kinky way, if that’ll help you.”

“Gross.”

Terushima hadn’t smiled when he mentioned kinks, even though the comment was probably meant to be amusing. Someone honked at them as the light turned green.

“So? Are you going to be a good little hostage and listen, Pegasus?”

 _That doesn’t sound like a question_ , Kuroo thought quickly, trying to avoid the blonde’s penetrative gaze. _I don’t want him to add the Dead part of my new nickname; he’s already taken me this far away from Tokyo’s jurisdiction; who’s to say they don’t even know about the getaway car and are only focused on interrogating the fox twins for information on the stolen cash? They probably don’t even have a trail yet. What if, for some magical reason, Terushima didn’t get ratted out? What if this was all part of the plan, and he’s only taking me hostage so he can somehow use my life to get his friends out of jail? Is that even possible?_

“Well?”

_Either way…he’s got my hands tied behind my back. Luck has never been in my favor. I don’t think that’s about to change now._

 

“As long as you don’t hurt me…I’ll cooperate.”

 

Terushima searched his face for tell of a lie—finding none, he released his hold on Kuroo’s new jacket and stepped on the gas, speeding away from the honking horns and whipping a few left turns so they ended-up deep in the city. The world was getting quieter and quieter the longer they drove, a sound that sent eerie jolts through the hostage’s chest. The original fear he had of Terushima returned in a flash once the blonde took out his yellow gun and slipped it inside his jacket—something so colorful and easy to hide could kill Kuroo with one bullet. He had suffered through some pretty low times in his miserable life, but not once did he ever want to actually die or end it all…the idea of dying now seemed tragic to the mechanic. His fighting spirit took the backseat to his terror when Kobra Kid decided that flashing the gun wasn’t enough.

The sunshine ray of murder made Kuroo gulp when Terushima slowly took the gun out and held it in his hand to showcase the details thoroughly, end pointed at the roof of the car. Those golden tinted eyes stared at Kuroo intensely, telling him that this was meant for him to witness, to fear—he was trying to prove just how easily he could kill the hostage. Kuroo had no weapons of his own, no shield if he jumped out of the car and took off…he had known that before, but this stare-down solidified his horror. If he didn’t listen, he was going to die. Simple as that.

Seeing that the mechanic’s eyes never left the gun, Terushima knew the message had been received, and re-hid his gun as they pulled up to a love motel hidden deep within Kurashiki.

 

Kuroo knew he should have waited another day to cash his check.

 

_Are we still having fun?_

_Are you holding the gun?_

_Take the money and run_

_We’ll never go home._

_I’ve got nothing to lose_

_You’ve got nothing to say_

_And we’re leaving today_

_We’ll never go home_

_—Planetary (GO!)_

**Author's Note:**

> There ended-up being WAYYYYY more references to Danger Days than I originally thought, which is pretty friggin awesome, right? Somehow the bad guys turned into killjoys and Terushima needed a cool outfit to wear and an even cooler car to drive...well, another shoutout to My Chem for being so fucking legendary and creative. The entirety of the Killjoy universe and song lyrics are credited to them!  
> NOTE: I am now writing in the style of one week of fanfiction, one week of my original novel, so updates will probably be slower than before (when I was supposed to be taking a week break from writing, turned into several months of fanfic writing and neglecting my original work...oopsie!). Do not fear! I'm not like the authors of fics I'm subscribed to...two people who take their time to write beautiful things and THIRTY-TWO others who have given me NO EXCUSES and KILL MY HOPE OF EVER SEEING THE END OF A GREAT FIC!!!!! Why do I even check my e-mail anymore...
> 
> Thanks for reading, and feel free to check out my old Iwaoi mermaid oneshot "The Mermaid of Seijoh Shore" for Mermay!!!! Oh, and there's also a fic I finished in March where Kuroo is a street fighter, has a young son named Terushima and ends-up with a personal trainer brofriend named Bokuto...I'm really proud of that one, so if you want, go check it out!  
> It's pretty damn cool, if I do say so myself. I'm gunna stop swearing now and say goodbye, tumbleweeds.


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